Back into the Shadows
by Captain Hilts
Summary: Set during the events of "Follow the Leader." Richard struggles with John's seemingly impromptu plans to visit Jacob, and the fact that he is no longer in control... Oneshot.


"Back into the Shadows"

The sky was overcast, clouds rolling overhead warning of rain. The wind had picked up slightly, rustling the trees; the sand from the beach swirled gently against the tents, as if foreshadowing the coming weather.

Richard Alpert let out a small sigh as he grabbed the satchel bag from his chair. He rummaged around inside, looking for a few items he'd need to go on the 'mission' that evening. Richard told himself it was good that John was back, that it would be the best for his people. He told himself these things, but was worried by the fact that something was strange. John was different.

His stomach knotted briefly at the thought. It wasn't good to know that John was different; the fact that he could have changed was a bit troublesome. Was there the possibility that he was wrong? Could John really do all that he was meant to do?

With another sigh, Richard shook the thoughts from his head. He dug out the compass from the bag and put it in his pocket, running his finger over the smooth glass. His eyes rested on the project he'd been working on earlier. The ship inside the bottle was not yet built- a lone sail needed to be righted. He pursed his lips and looked away, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

The air was warmer outside and a gust of wind brushed back the hair from his forehead. He watched as the members of the camp packed up their things, talking animatedly amongst themselves. They were going to see Jacob, of course they were excited. And Richard was helping them to get there.

John had asked for it. What could he want already? So much had happened within the last couple of hours. Richard expected John wanted answers, but something was different. It bothered him; something was floating in the back of his mind, tugging at his conscious.

He closed his eyes in effort to quell the thoughts, breathing in the salty air. It soothed him briefly; there had been many at time when he had gone to sit on the beach alone, watching the waves crash against the shore. He half-hoped the noise would drown out the swirl of thoughts in his head. Richard's gaze fell yet again to the people around him, continuing to pack their necessary things for the trip. _These are my people._

The thought raced through his mind angrily, possessively. He scanned the group thoughtfully, feeling a small pang of fear at his previous realization. But it was true, wasn't it?

_These are my people. He can't just take them from me. It's been three years. Three years-_

"No…stop it."

He gripped the strap of the satchel bag tightly in his fist. In the beginning, he had wanted this- someone else to come and lead the flock. Only now he realized…he'd become used to the job.

But who was he to argue Jacob's will? Richard Alpert, the lowly 'stand-in' for John Locke? He had no right to argue, to feel these thoughts of jealously; of vulnerability.

Richard's eyes searched the sea of faces for the one he never expected to see again. Benjamin Linus, the man who had hindered John from becoming the leader as he was supposed to. He watched as Ben sat on a small hill of sand, throwing pebbles into the surf like a bored child. At least with Linus there was always something to hold on to, whether it be false or not. Richard had always known what to expect, how to carefully guide those he was meant to help.

There was still a part of him that saw Ben as a child. It could have been from the fact that he'd known him since Ben was a boy, but there was something about Linus that was oddly child-like. He enjoyed playing 'games' with people: spinning lies and catching others in the act. Richard always showed patience through these games because he knew there was a greater purpose. Ben always did things to protect what he loved, whatever that could have been. He was always motivated by that fact, which had surprised Richard at first. For a man like Ben to be motivated simply by love- or a lack thereof- spoke something interesting about him.

But John Locke seemed to have no greater goal. He lived in the moment, and his plan lacked substance. He was not thinking about the people, and that fact disturbed Richard more than anything else.

_I shouldn't let him go. I shouldn't be taking him there, allowing all of this._

Richard clenched his jaw at the whirl of weary and frustrated thoughts. How could they resurface so easily? And why was he wracked with guilt and uncertainty?

…was this what Jacob wanted- complete reform?

It was a dilemma like this one that made him suddenly feel so strangely alone. In a way, he had been; doomed to be forever on his own, like the ship in the bottle. Now that John had appeared by some impossible coincidence, he was no longer needed. The pitiful Richard Alpert could fade back into the shadows where he belonged.

_Three years. We were happy here. It was finally back to norma_l-

Richard squeezed his eyes shut, focusing instead on the surprisingly cold wind that swept across the beach, rustling his clothes.

"Stop it…" he murmured.

The wind gusted strongly and a spiral of sand stung his skin. His thoughts were still a cesspool of emotions, all tearing at him relentlessly, all proposing some kind of plan. He tried to center his attention on something else…

Somewhere, in the foggy memories he would call upon at times, there was one he remembered of love. He was no longer sure if they were mere dreams or some kind of vision he'd tried to forget. He rarely called upon this memory, for it was so clouded in his mind that he could hardly remember such a thing.

When Ben was a child, weary from being sick and discouraged at the fact he hadn't seen his mother again, he sought comfort from Richard. Being the boy's only friend, he had listened to Ben talk about a young girl he'd left behind in the Barracks; Ben told him she was the only thing that kept him going through his time there, that he truly loved her, in spite of how young he was. He'd asked Richard if he had ever loved anyone before, if there was someone he was waiting for; if she was someone he held on to.

The answer, Richard told him, was yes.

At times, the fog would lift on his memories, and he would see them in his mind in quick flashes, like fading, scratched strips of film.

She had raven-dark hair that fell past her shoulders. Her wavy locks curled gently and bounced as she walked. Her smile was beautiful; bright and warm. There was laughter and voices he always heard, but never what they were saying. She smiled at him and took his hand, for what he never knew. She spoke his name; a sweetly melodic, accented voice: 'Ricardo.'

Where did she come from? Who was she?

_Why do I love her?_

"Are you ready, Richard?"

He turned abruptly to face John Locke, who was looking at him expectantly. They regarded each other silently for a moment.

"…Yes, John, I am."

Locke nodded slightly, training his eyes on the tree line. Richard followed his gaze, staring out into the dark, somewhat foreboding jungle. Back to the shadows, where he belonged. Alpert squared his jaw, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

"Let's get moving," he said.

As they departed the safe haven of the beach, John ahead of them, Richard followed. The compass was clutched in his hand. Perhaps destiny, he mused, awaited him in the shadow of the leaders, always there to bear witness. Never to take action.

That didn't feel right to him, however, and he gripped the compass tighter in his palm. His time would come; he would do something. Ben had cheated fate several times before- Richard was no different.

The distant memory returned to hi, and for the first time he heard her voice telling him something.

_Ricardo…be strong, Ricardo. Go…they need you._

His vision blurred with remorseful tears, yet he smiled. He marched on, leaving footprints in the sand. Determined never to step back into the shadow…

No longer so alone.

L O S T


End file.
